


call it fate, call it karma

by bbhyun



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drug Use, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Ensemble Cast, Explicit Language, Fist Fights, Flirting, Found Family, Gangs, Guns, Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Mafia AU, Minor Violence, Sexual Tension, Shotgunning, Slow Build, Slow Burn, but not all of them, everyone's mentioned at least once, jeonghans the boss, lots of flirting, most of svts in a gang, soonyoungs new and plucky, wonwoos the powerful righthand man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28980186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbhyun/pseuds/bbhyun
Summary: Wonwoo’s bleeding from his lip and a spot on his cheek where one of the kids had tried to slash him, but there’s a fierce grin on his face that mirrors Soonyoung’s, and briefly, Soonyoung thinks Wonwoo looks like a Hollywood star playing at being a mobster.-The last thing Soonyoung expects when Jihoon ropes him into the gang is a ridiculously attractive, insufferable man that he can't stop staring at.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 25
Kudos: 78





	call it fate, call it karma

**Author's Note:**

> hello i am back with my jeonghan is the leader agenda sksdjsdk
> 
> i am also back with my soonwoo agenda, but u already knew that.
> 
> title's from the song by the strokes
> 
> i keep promising myself this will be the last fic i write, but then my fingers get itchy and i sit down and it all comes out in one sitting 
> 
> for max Feels and Atmosphere, listen to some Angsty Edgy music that this aus wonwoo would listen to. 
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> comments & kudos r greatly appreciated!! <3

In his line of work, rules are simultaneously everywhere and nowhere, it’s just as easy to go insane from being a stickler for rules as it is to do so from hurtling off the tracks. It’s why it’s critical that you have your own code, your own personal boundaries and lines you do not cross, to maintain some sense of normalcy in your life, if only to keep you from losing your grip on reality. Across all his years of experience, Soonyoung has curated his own list of rules, some of which he bends and is constantly looking for loopholes in. There are, however, two that are absolute, never touched, always abided by, golden, in Soonyoung's very own book of life. 

First, know the people you work with. No matter how simple the job, Soonyoung has learnt never to dive in without knowing those around him first. It’s just being practical, really, it’s completely unsafe to jump into life or death situations without even knowing your colleagues’ names. Luckily for Soonyoung, this is not a tough rule to follow. Soonyoung loves people (though it’s not every day you hear gangsters proclaiming their love for others). He loves the game of getting to know a person, the challenge of digging around and finding that sweet spot where everyone’s comfortable with one another, where he can tease and earn wry smiles instead of punches to the face. And in this life, one is never short of interesting characters with delightful backstories that would make the most avid video game players rub their hands with glee.

Harder is his second rule, don’t know them too well, and don’t let yourself be known too well. This one, Soonyoung sometimes finds himself having to restrain himself in the effort to stick to it. It’s all fun and games, making friends, till you remember that friendships, while crucial, can also be a vulnerability. Soonyoung loves people, but he’s been in the game too long to be naive. He’s seen others get too close to people, only to have their relationships used against them, or worse yet, have gotten stabbed in the back, and Soonyoung would rather cut off a limb than have that happen to him. So he winks but keeps a keen eye, smiles but bares his teeth, hugs but keeps everyone at arm’s length. He can’t remember the last time he’s introduced himself with his real name.

Two simple rules. Two simple, absolute rules. After all these years, Soonyoung really should have perfected them to an art form. But maybe he’s getting soft and losing his edge lately. Kwon Soonyoung at his peak would have _spat_ at present him for finding himself in this situation.

It starts off innocently enough—or as innocently as it can when you’re in one of Seoul’s most notorious street gangs— with a job. An easy one, too, just ruffle some feathers and get back the money some asshole owes Jeonghan. Alright, so Soonyoung didn’t know the guy he was working with that well, but he’d just figured Jeon Wonwoo, being one of Jeonghan’s favourites, could be trusted. _Wrong._ Soonyoung kicks himself now. What was it he always said? No matter how simple the job, _never_ jump in without knowing your partner. All Soonyoung knows is one moment he’d been fucking some low-lifer up in an alley, this Wonwoo guy watching him uninterestedly, and the next moment the cops had shown up.

“Jesus, Wonwoo.” The cop sighs, as he approaches them. He has large, kind eyes that don’t quite fit in with the deep frown and the revolver strapped to his side. “Quit getting caught, would you?”

Soonyoung stops, clenching and unclenching his bloody fists at his side. The man, slumped on the ground, groans, but seems too beaten to be able to process what’s going on. When it had come down to it, it hadn't been much of a fight, but Soonyoung's the kind to always lose himself when he gets in the zone, so he has to actively inhale deeply to calm the buzzing in his veins. Now focused, Soonyoung’s gaze sharpens, jumps from Wonwoo to the cop, then to Wonwoo again. He’s ready to run, was ready to run the moment the cop had shouted over at them, but judging from how Wonwoo’s still leaning against the grimy wall, this cop won’t be a problem. Soonyoung racks his brain, tries to remember what Jihoon had told him about their deals with the cops. It hasn’t been long since Soonyoung’s joined them, and Soonyoung’s good at his job, but everyone has a fatal flaw and his is forgetfulness. It’s tough trying to wrap your mind around all the under-the-table deals and who’s-alright-and-who’s-not politics in their world.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” comes Wonwoo’s reply, voice low and smooth. “Look at my knuckles, Jisoo. Clean. My clothes? Clean.”Wonwoo pushes himself off the wall, brushing off his clothes. The cop, Jisoo, pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out another long-suffering sigh.

“You know this guy?” Jisoo asks, jerking a thumb at Soonyoung, who’s still watching the two of them with interest.

Jeon Wonwoo shifts his gaze over to Soonyoung lazily, eyeing him up and down before meeting his eyes coolly. He flicks his cigarette butt to the ground, with one last exhale of smoke. “Nope. Knock yourself out.”

Wait, what? Soonyoung’s face screws up and he yells to Wonwoo’s already retreating back. “What the fuck? Hey, get back here, asshole!”

There’s no way in hell that this Jisoo cop believes a word Wonwoo’s said, but it seems to be good enough for him, because he promptly shoves Soonyoung against the wall and Soonyoung feels the familiar bite of cold metal around his wrists.He’s still shouting and hurling curses when Jisoo pushes him into the car, locks him in a holding cell. Soonyoung slumps down in the cell, knuckles raw.

He kind of hates himself right now. He’s seething, because he has no idea how he’d let himself make such an amateur mistake. Jeon Wonwoo’s always been somewhat of an enigma, from the very day Soonyoung had joined them. But the guy’s also one of Jeonghan’s righthand men, and you don’t get to that stage by being the fucking scum of the earth. Soonyoung remembers when he’d first seen Wonwoo, trailing behind Jeonghan with a bored look on his face. He remembers asking Jihoon what his deal was, and the answer he'd gotten.

_“You mean Jeon Wonwoo? He works alone, usually. I don’t know him that well, actually, though he’s been here just as long as I have.”_

_“Then why are you here and why’s he there?” Soonyoung had asked, eyeing Wonwoo._

_“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jihoon had snorted and hit him in the shoulder. “I’m here because I’m smart as hell and Jeonghan knows that. But Wonwoo’s in a different league. He’s smart and strong, almost as strong as Seungcheol. Dangerous, almost, if you're on the other side." He'd taken a pause to snicker here._

_“Really?” Soonyoung had raised an eyebrow at Wonwoo’s unassuming figure, covered in a leather jacket, but Jihoon had just carried on._

_“He’s basically everything Jeonghan could want in a member.”_

Yeah, right. That is, if Jeonghan wants a rat as a member, Soonyoung thinks savagely. He’s done nothing to deserve this. He’s been dutifully following orders, usually Jihoon’s, because he’s too new to receive any direct orders from Jeonghan, but _still,_ he’s been obediently playing his part as a cog in Jeonghan’s well-oiled machine. And if anything, he deserves some recognition and praise for all the jobs he’s done, not a jail cell and condescension from the boss’s righthand man.

He should have known better when Jeon Wonwoo had shown up at their club and demanded Jihoon let him borrow Soonyoung for the day. Jihoon had—he’d given Wonwoo a suspicious look (which had been ignored), sure, but had nodded at Soonyoung anyway. And Soonyoung, the idiot, had figured that maybe Wonwoo, the infamous lone wolf, had needed him for something special, something that only the legendary Hoshi would be able to do. But no, he’d just stood by the side and barely even watched Soonyoung go about the job. He hadn’t even had the courtesy to _watch_ , half the time just smoking and staring at the sky. Jesus, the _nerve_ of that guy.

The door to the holding cell clangs open, and Soonyoung looks up to see Jisoo’s unimpressed face. “Well, you’re clear. Send my regards to Jeonghan, would you?" Jisoo twirls a pair of handcuffs around a slender finger and eyes him up and down. "New, are you? Tell him to whip his men into shape. They're getting caught left and right, these days. It's unbecoming.” 

Soonyoung fumes all the way back to the club, and for the whole of the following week. Apparently, Wonwoo returning to the club alone had been fishy enough for Jihoon to call Jeonghan, who then called Jisoo, who then finally set Soonyoung free. Thank God _someone_ in this group had some semblance of morals. 

_“I’ve already told you so many times, all the cops in our zone answer to Jisoo, who answers to Jeonghan.” Jihoon had snorted when Soonyoung finally hauled his ass back. “Well, not quite, but they go way back. They have a deal.”_

_“And how was I supposed to know that was Jisoo?” Soonyoung had just whined, wrapping his knuckles._

_“You could’ve used your brain. Seriously, Hoshi, ometimes, I’m not sure you even have one._ ”

Well, Jihoon could go fuck himself, Soonyoung thinks petulantly. Because fine, maybe Soonyoung could have avoided the situation, but the fault most definitely still lies with Jeon Wonwoo, all-around awful person that he is, and not Soonyoung, the obvious victim of said awful person.

“You look like you’re going to overheat from thinking too hard.” Jihoon’s dry voice breaks Soonyoung’s concentration. Soonyoung slams a fist down on the counter, making the ice in Jihoon’s glass clink about and several girls inch away warily. Rolling his eyes, Jihoon swirls the amber liquid in his glass, then downs it all in one shot. “So dramatic.”

“I hate him.” Soonyoung declares. It’s a Saturday night, which means the club’s full of people, but Soonyoung still spots Jeon Wonwoo in the crowd. He’s sitting at one of the private booths, looking at his phone, while Jeonghan and Seungcheol talk animatedly over drinks.

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’re talking about he-who-must-not-be-named again.”

“Yes.” Soonyoung nods decidedly. “The devil incarnate.”

Jihoon laughs. Every time he does, Soonyoung always feels a little blindsided. That someone with a tongue as vicious and hands as deadly as Jihoon’s could have such a boyish laugh. “Wonwoo’s not too bad.”

“You only say that because he didn’t sell you out to the cops,” Soonyoung spits.

“Well, if it bothers you so much, grow a pair and do something about it, instead of bitching about it incessantly. You’re lame, Hoshi, I’m talking to Mingyu now.” Jihoon snorts, then turns to the taller man, one of the others who works for Jihoon, and Soonyoung doesn’t blame him, Mingyu’s in a much better mood and can probably think of more engaging conversation topics.

Soonyoung has been meaning to give Jeon Wonwoo a piece of his mind for a while, it’s just that he’s pretty elusive, and it’s not like Soonyoung has any other ways to contact him. Which means he finally gets his chance today, Soonyoung thinks, as he watches Wonwoo glide towards the bar like he’s hot shit. Soonyoung sniffs, and rolls his sleeves up.

“Ugh, you’re _not_ getting into a fight, are you? Please don’t. I’d rather you stayed and whined.” Jihoon says the moment he sees Soonyoung get up. “For my sake, Hoshi.”

“Relax, my dear Jihoon. I’m just going to talk to Wonwoo. A friendly conversation.” Soonyoung replies with a false smile, batting his eyelashes.

“What about?” Wonwoo’s voice interrupts, making Soonyoung jump and whip around. Wonwoo’s flipping open his lighter to light the blunt that’s between his lips, eyebrow raised. Soonyoung hates how arrogant this guy is.

“About how you sold me to the cops.” Soonyoung recovers from the initial shock quickly, narrowing his eyes and puffing out his chest. He hears Jihoon mumble an _oh, shit,_ behind him, though he ignores it. Soonyoung’s impulsive and brash, but he’s not stupid, and he knows that getting into a fight with Jeon Wonwoo in a crowded club is a bad idea. So he’s not going to, _not_ that he couldn’t take Wonwoo in a fight, but because he doesn’t want to get skinned alive by the big boss. Or worse, get his other boss skinned alive by the big boss. Hey, Soonyoung's a pretty loyal guy. “What the hell is your problem, anyway? Why would you do that? You got something against me or what?”

Wonwoo only exhales, blowing smoke from his lips. The gaze he keeps on Soonyoung’s is cool and level, like he couldn’t care less about what Soonyoung has to say, and it makes his skin crawl. “‘Cause if you’ve got a problem with me, I’d rather you settled it yourself, instead of letting the cops do the dirty work for you. Didn’t take you for a coward.”

The spite in his voice makes Jihoon groan a bit more behind him, as if he's expecting Wonwoo to fly off the rails at the blatant disrespect. It doesn't matter, though, because Soonyoung's ready for whatever that's coming. He's mastered the fine art of provoking enemies and defending himself against the rages he induces, so Soonyoung stands easy, but there's a tension in his shoulders and a lightness in his feet. But if Wonwoo’s even the least bit offended, it doesn’t show. Instead, he flicks his lighter open, then closes it, then flicks it open again, the metallic clinking filling the tense silence. Soonyoung can sense Jihoon holding his breath behind him, and briefly, he wonders if Wonwoo's the type of guy to lash out at anyone who tries to test him, and if so, how many have suffered the consequences. “I wasn’t wrong, though.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Soonyoung snarls, clenching his fists by his side. He sends a quick mental apology Jihoon’s way. If Wonwoo was going to keep up this whole act, Soonyoung can’t promise punches won’t be flying. And if his casual indifference wasn’t annoying enough, there’s a tiny smirk on Wonwoo’s lips, like he knows he’s getting under Soonyoung’s skin and loves it. Soonyoung's itching to punch it off his face.

“Jisoo asked if I know you,” Wonwoo continues, pausing to take a drag from his blunt, “and I don’t. I know nothing about you, Hoshi.”

Soonyoung opens his mouth to retort, but the bartender sets down a drink on the counter that Wonwoo takes wordlessly, and then he’s gone before Soonyoung’s brain has formulated the words he wants to speak. Embarrassing, because Soonyoung prides himself on always being the one with the quick, razor-sharp tongue. It’s only after Wonwoo’s returned to his prized seat beside Jeonghan, and Jihoon’s clapped a relieved hand on Soonyoung’s back, that Soonyoung realises his heart’s beating wildly and he can hear the blood roaring in his ears. He flexes his fingers, then shoves his way out of the club, mood for the rest of the night sour.

Soonyoung’s usually a pretty nice guy. He’s all for talking things out and resolving issues. But it seems like some things refuse to be resolved, and the next best thing is just keeping said issue as far away as possible. In this case, it means Soonyoung’s decided he’s just never going to work with Wonwoo again. It should be easy, given Soonyoung works more for Jihoon than Jeonghan anyway, and Wonwoo barely bothers Jihoon. All of Jeonghan’s most trusted have their own men working under them, who they answer to first in some unspoken hierarchy. Except Jeon Wonwoo, Jihoon had pointed out at the start, who prefers to do his own work or handpick men from the others as and when he pleases. Jihoon calls it independence, Soonyoung calls it arrogance. Yet if there’s one positive thing about Wonwoo’s arrogance, it’s that the chances he’ll ever have to work with him again are low. From what he’s heard, Wonwoo only works with people he deems capable enough, and since they’d clearly done a poor job together the last time round, the chances of him seeking Soonyoung out again are close to zero. Or at least, that’s what Soonyoung had thought, until Jihoon had casually told him to go look for Wonwoo again. Naturally, Soonyoung had done his worst, whined and pleaded and ranted till he was red in the face. And _naturally_ , Jihoon had just ignored him.

“Okay, what do you want?” Soonyoung asks coldly, arms folded across his chest. Wonwoo’s sitting at the bar, spinning a revolver on the shiny counter. Soonyoung hopes it misfires and tears a hole in Wonwoo’s chest. Sadly, it doesn’t, and Wonwoo pockets it when he notices Soonyoung’s arrived. He glances up at Soonyoung and gives him a nod of acknowledgement. He’s wearing glasses today, a thin, wire-rimmed pair that makes him look more like a scholar than a thug.

“Why the unfriendly attitude, Hoshi?” Wonwoo laughs humourlessly. “Just needed some help, is all.”

“That’s funny, I don’t recall our previous job going too well.”

“Maybe so, but I’ve heard you’re pretty good at what you do.” Wonwoo drums his fingers on the counter with his right hand. With his left, he gestures at the seat beside him. Soonyoung stands.

It would be a lie to say that comment didn’t please Soonyoung. He _is_ good at what he does. He hadn’t gotten his nickname for nothing. Soonyoung’s aware that people call him the Tiger in hushed voices when they think he can’t hear, because he can be ruthless and deadly when he has to be, even with his happy-go-lucky laughter and fooling about. And though Soonyoung’s only been here a month, it’s important (for his own ego) that those around him know that he’s a force to be reckoned with. Also, Soonyoung just loves compliments. The fact that they come out of Wonwoo’s mouth just makes the compliment a little less sweet, a little more bitter.

“Besides, Jihoon clearly had nothing better for you to do if he could send you here.”

“You know Jihoon literally has to do what you say, right?”

“Bullshit, Lee Jihoon can do anything he wants and we all know that.”

Wonwoo’s lightning quick response has something like laughter bubbling up in Soonyoung’s throat, though he suppresses it the second he feels it coming. There’s a beat of silence, with the two just staring each other, Soonyoung with a challenge in his eyes, Wonwoo with dry amusement.

“How do I know you won’t sell me out this time?” Soonyoung says finally. Going into this would basically be making the same mistake, flouting his rule again, and Soonyoung’s fully aware of this. But not going into this would mean disobeying Jihoon, and disobeying Wonwoo, and disobeying Jeonghan, and Soonyoung’s dipped his toes into enough street gangs that he understands the importance of obedience. There's a hierarchy that must demands respect, even if one despises those who sit at the top. 

“We won’t get caught,” replies Wonwoo, with a smirk at having won Soonyoung over (although Soonyoung’s doing this for _Jihoon_ , and Wonwoo hasn’t won him over, not really). “Or we could get to know each other on the way.”

“What?” Soonyoung’s face screws up in confusion.

  
“I don’t know, tell me something about yourself.” Wonwoo pushes his spectacles up his nose, then picks up the car keys on the counter as he makes to leave. “What’s your favourite food?”

“Kimchi?” Soonyoung obliges Wonwoo with an answer, though it comes out more like a question. He raises an eyebrow at Wonwoo, because if Wonwoo’s playing a game right now, Soonyoung refuses to be the butt of a joke and _will_ get to the bottom of it.

“Good. See? Now I know something about you and can’t sell you out.” Wonwoo laughs a laugh that sounds way too carefree to belong to him. “You look constipated.”

As it turns out, they don’t get caught this time. They do, however, get unexpectedly ambushed by another gang. Nobody important enough to be on their radar, though, just a straggle of kids who probably thought they could easily overpower the guy in glasses and his shorter companion. It's Wonwoo who throws the first blow, a sucker punch to the jaw, because that boy had been running his mouth just a tad too long, and Soonyoung understands what Jihoon had meant by "dangerous". Instantly, everyone's baring their teeth and greedy for a fight, and Soonyoung wrenches off a piece of rusty pipe he'd been eyeing from the beginning. It barely takes a few minutes to send them fleeing. Soonyoung flips them off as they run, then screams belligerently, dropping the pipe to the ground with a clatter. Not to say anything, in particular, Soonyoung’s just riding off the high of a victory, adrenaline still coursing through his hot blood, fists still aching for a fight. Behind him, Wonwoo snorts incredulously. “Are you insane?”

“No, not clinically.” Soonyoung shoots back, chest heaving from exertion, and Wonwoo laughs again. Soonyoung runs a hand through his hair, damp with sweat at the roots. Wonwoo’s bleeding from his lip and a spot on his cheek where one of the kids had tried to slash him, but there’s a fierce grin on his face that mirrors Soonyoung’s, and briefly, Soonyoung thinks Wonwoo looks like a Hollywood star playing at being a mobster.

“You cut your hair.” Wonwoo says out of nowhere, reaching down to pick up his glasses, which had clattered to the floor earlier.

“What?” Soonyoung touches a hand to his hair again, at the freshly buzzed sides.

“The undercut suits you,” replies Wonwoo mildly, as he wipes his spectacle lens with the fabric of his shirt. 

“Thanks.” Soonyoung’s voice is a little tentative, still suspicious, and again, it comes out like a nervous question.

After that encounter, Wonwoo doesn’t ask for Soonyoung again. Which is perfectly fine, Soonyoung reasons. It means he doesn’t have to waste his time working with someone Soonyoung can’t breathe easy around. It means he doesn’t have to feel the constant need to watch his back, because his partners are people far more trustworthy and likeable, at that. Soonyoung goes back to his odd jobs for Jihoon, the occasional order from Seungcheol and spends his free time at the club and seedy stalls that serve surprisingly delicious kimchi stew.

Not for the first time, Soonyoung thinks being part of one of Seoul’s bigger gangs has its perks. For one, Jisoo covers for them as long as they aren’t caught with a dead body and a smoking gun in hand. Plus they get in for free at the clubs and bars Jeonghan owns, where they can not only drink to their heart’s content, but also do whatever the fuck they want without complaints. Soonyoung’s particularly fond of this one bar because he gets on well with the bartender Seokmin, a man with the brightest smile in the world and the most hilarious sense of humour. He’s there with Hansol, today, sitting on the curb out back. Hansol’s one of the younger ones, but he’s somehow trusted with the bulk of the drugs side of Jeonghan’s business, which means he’s crazy important and kind of answers only to Jeonghan (which is _badass_ ). It also means he’s always got stuff with him. Soonyoung wonders when he'll reach the level of trust that Jeonghan turns his cheek at him dipping his fingers into their stores.

Hansol’s a good kid. He lets Soonyoung talk as much as he likes and responds to his crazy stories with genuine interest. It fuels Soonyoung’s fire, every jaw-dropping stare feeding his ego, and Soonyoung can’t help but like him. Soonyoung thinks some of his fondness for Hansol may also have something to do with how the only time he really talks to Hansol is when they’re both high and everything about the world seems softer.

The night breeze is cool, rippling through Hansol’s curls and Soonyoung’s shorter hair. Soonyoung inhales deeply, and leans his head back so his eyes are on the dark sky. Beside him, Hansol’s mumbling about a dream he had last night. Soonyoung lets his eyes flutter shut, until someone clears his throat above him. He cracks them open, eyes falling on Jeon Wonwoo’s face which peers down at him with a smile.

“You.” Soonyoung rasps, throat dry. He squints at Wonwoo’s face, then lifts a hand to slap his face with a satisfying sound. Wonwoo’s face scrunches up in irritation. It’s nothing personal, Soonyoung thinks, he just had to make sure he was real, because Soonyoung has a tendency to imagine things when he’s high. “Why are you here?”

“I was in the area.” Wonwoo settles down on the other side of Soonyoung, hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket. Hansol nods a greeting to Wonwoo, still rambling about his dream. “Seokmin said you were here.”

“Were you looking for me?” Soonyoung furrows his eyebrows. “You need me or something?”

Wonwoo laughs shortly, though it’s more of an exhale than laughter. “Something like that.”

“Not sure I’m in the state to strategise and think. Could definitely till beat someone up, though.” Soonyoung babbles, to which Wonwoo just rolls his eyes and waves him off. They fall silent, and Soonyoung tries to focus on Hansol’s dream (he’s talking about how he’d been flying?) but now that Wonwoo’s on his right, Soonyoung no longer feels as at ease as he had before. He shifts uncomfortably, and keeps forcing himself not to look over at Wonwoo. It feels like Wonwoo’s watching him. It also feels like Wonwoo’s up to _something_ , but Soonyoung has no idea what it could be, since he’s apparently not looking for Soonyoung for work. Whatever it is, it bothers Soonyoung because he’d come here to relax and now he’s fidgeting like a schoolgirl in front of her crush.

“Why are you so tense?” Wonwoo asks lowly, voice a lot closer to Soonyoung’s ear than it needs to be. Soonyoung shivers (because of the breeze), and finally turns to look at Wonwoo. The cut on Wonwoo’s cheek’s healed nicely into a thin white scar, the only mark on his otherwise smooth skin. Soonyoung thinks it’s unfair that Wonwoo’s a gangster with basically no scars. It’s practically unheard of. Maybe he has scars elsewhere, a small voice in Soonyoung’s head says dumbly, and Soonyoung’s cheeks heat up.

“Am not.” He mumbles back. Honestly, Wonwoo’s sitting closer than he has to. He can feel his body heat. Soonyoung could move away. He doesn’t.

“Are too.” Wonwoo accuses, voice teasing. “You act like I’m going to slash you to bits or something. Relax.”

Soonyoung pulls a face, and lifts the joint to his lips. “Can you blame me?”

“Come on,” Wonwoo laughs quietly. “I thought we established that we know each other already.” Soonyoung huffs out a sarcastic snort at that, and nudges Wonwoo back with his shoulder.

“So you know that I like kimchi. Big fucking deal.” Soonyoung’s mouth is so dry. And his stomach is so empty. God, what he would give for a huge bowl of ramyeon right now. He jerks his head back towards Wonwoo, and with his lightheadedness, his head feels clunkier than it should be. “You still know nothing about me.”

“I could try.” Wonwoo’s answer is a challenge, and it feels like he’s cornering Soonyoung with his fists brandished. It sends a thrill down Soonyoung’s back, one that settles in his stomach. He narrows his eyes into little slits, and Wonwoo tilts his chin up at him. On Soonyoung’s left, Hansol’s humming something softly. Soonyoung feels a tiny lick of shame for forgetting he’d been there in the first place. After a pause, Wonwoo’s eyes shift from Soonyoung’s to the joint sandwiched between his index and middle finger. “Can I take a hit?”

Soonyoung clears his throat, and licks his lips. Slowly, he brings the joint to his mouth and takes a long drag. Wonwoo’s eyes follow, lingering on his lips. Soonyoung sees his Adam’s apple shift as he swallows, and he thinks he sees some nervousness in Wonwoo’s usually impassive face. Interesting, Soonyoung thinks, to see the arrogant asshole slipping off his high horse. So interesting, in fact, that it pushes Soonyoung to do something impulsive. No, not just impulsive, downright _stupid_ , that has him hiding his face in his hands for the next few days.

He pulls Wonwoo closer to him with a hand on the back of his neck, at the same time leaning forward to meet him halfway. Wonwoo makes a surprised sound when their lips meet, and it fills Soonyoung with a sense of satisfaction and having caught him by surprise. He gets the idea pretty quickly, though, ( _one of the smart ones_ , Soonyoung hears Jihoon’s voice) and parts his lips. Soonyoung exhales as Wonwoo inhales, mouths hot.

“Dude,” Hansol snickers with bleary eyes. “I could have just given you another joint.”

He pulls back once he’s done, and Wonwoo stares at him with shiny lips and eyes a little wider than normal. Soonyoung’s heart’s pounding in his chest, but he plays it off, smirking with ease and leaning back on Hansol.

“Hold on, let me get this straight. You _hate_ him, but you kissed him?”

Soonyoung buries his head in the crook of his elbow. “I didn’t _kiss_ him, Jihoon, we shotgunned weed!”

“By _kissing_!” Jihoon shrieks, then cackles, clapping his hands. “You kissed Wonwoo!”

“Are we talking about the same Wonwoo. Like, Jeon Wonwoo? The devil incarnate?” Soonyoung lifts his head up at sweet, sweet Mingyu, who looks like a lost and confused puppy.

“Yes, Mingyu, Jeon Wonwoo, also known asHollywood’s picture perfect bad boy, Jeonghan’s favourite weapon, Hoshi's lover boy, you know.” Jihoon says patiently, as if he’s talking to a child. They’re sitting in an eatery, and they’re supposed to be grabbing lunch and slurping up their noodles. Instead, Jihoon seems to only have tormenting Soonyoung on his agenda.

“But,” Mingyu purses his lips, looking down at his bowl of soup, “doesn’t Hoshi hate him?”

“Yes, Hoshi, don’t you?” Jihoon bats his eyelashes at Soonyoung with a wicked smile. Soonyoung rues the day he befriended this monster.

“I _do_ hate him.” Soonyoung replies primly, refusing to look up from the clear broth in his bowl. “That doesn’t mean I don’t find him ridiculously attractive.” His answer has both Jihoon and Mingyu snickering like children. Soonyoung stabs at his noodles, cheeks burning. “It’s not like I’m going to _date_ him or whatever. I’m not even going to kiss him again. We just shotgunned weed once, that’s all. He’s still a complete jackass.”

“ _Date?!_ ” Jihoon echoes incredulously. “Wonwoo doesn’t date. In all my years of knowing him, he’s never dated _once._ The closest he came to it was that weird thing with Jun, but I’m pretty sure they just slept with each other because they had nothing better to do.”

“Jun?” Soonyoung repeats. Thinking of the lean Chinese man with mischievous eyes and curling tattoos, Soonyoung shrinks a little. Jun’s someone who does business with Jeonghan, and he isn’t really under Jeonghan, per se, he’s the leader of a separate gang, men who have their own set of rules and don’t quite do things the Korean way. Intimidating, Soonyoung thinks dully. Then he shakes his head violently, shakes the thought of Jun and Wonwoo right out with it. “Well, good, because it’s not like I want to date him. So let’s stop fucking talking about who Wonwoo is or isn’t acquainted with.”

The thing is Soonyoung’s a black-or-white kind of guy. He knows what he likes, knows what he doesn’t like, and sticks to it. Now, he’s not saying he’s _always_ black-or-white, because there are always grey areas in life. And especially with what he spends his time doing, he runs into tons of moral grey areas on a daily basis. The point is, Soonyoung’s the kind of person who loves what he loves passionately, and hates what he hates even more so. He loves everything with kimchi. He hates everything with cucumber. He loves every pop song. He hates every wannabe indie song. In most cases, he tries not to be neutral about something, preferring to form an opinion if only for the sake of having a side to argue for. But while some situations call for neutrality, what Soonyoung can say for sure is he’s never had such conflicting opinions about anything or anyone the way he does about Jeon Wonwoo.

It’s as if one moment, he can hate him and his self-important way of strutting about, then love him for the way he laughs like a child free of worries. Soonyoung can’t figure out what he thinks about Wonwoo, which irritates him to no end, because in turn, he can’t tell how he should act around him. He wants to be cold and aloof, only Wonwoo’s taken to raising his eyebrows and smiling slightly in greeting. And sometimes he wants to joke around and tease him, only Wonwoo’s straight face can also intimidate the shit out of him. In other words, Soonyoung can feel all his self-control and poise unravelling whenever Wonwoo’s around, because _fuck,_ if this man doesn’t make him nervous.

It doesn’t help that Jihoon has the time of his life making fun of him for it. (Soonyoung wonders when they’d gotten close enough that Jihoon feels perfectly comfortable poking at all of Soonyoung’s flaws and Soonyoung accepts it. It’s a clear violation of Soonyoung’s second rule.) It also doesn’t help that Wonwoo keeps asking Soonyoung to follow him on his jobs.

“Are you always going to be this skittish?” Wonwoo asks dryly one day, from the passenger seat as Soonyoung drives, one hand on the wheel, the other hanging out the open window of the car. Today, Soonyoung's been tasked to help Wonwoo transport some goods to customers in another city. The drugs, packed into little brown bricks, have been shoved in all possible hiding spots in the car; Soonyoung's currently sitting on a carseat stuffed with three such bricks. It does not make for a comfortable ride.

“I’m not skittish!” Soonyoung protests, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Are too.” Wonwoo says pointedly. Soonyoung’s about to argue, then thinks better of it, and bites back the childish words on the tip of his tongue. In the corner of his eye, he can see Wonwoo smile a small, self-satisfied smirk. It’s both incredibly irritating and unfairly attractive. They’re silent, letting the music on Soonyoung’s CDs play, until Wonwoo breaks the peaceful silence. “Your music taste is awful, by the way.”

Soonyoung scoffs, glancing over at Wonwoo. “And your superiority complex about music is _so_ unattractive.” Wonwoo’s smile widens, and Soonyoung curses himself for being baited into a response. “Next time, maybe think about that before you ask me to be your chauffeur of the day.”

They fall quiet, until yet _again_ , Wonwoo breaks the silence. That’s funny, Soonyoung thinks annoyedly, he definitely recalls Wonwoo being the quiet one, and him being the talkative one. “I moved to Seoul a couple of years ago. I was barely an adult, and I had no clue what was going on. Then I met Jeonghan, and he had no clue what was going on either, so we sort of grew up and figured things out together.”

“What are you doing?” Soonyoung deadpans, hand tight on the wheel. Wonwoo tilts his head to the side, staring at Soonyoung.

  
“Telling you about myself. Don’t you want to get to know me?” Wonwoo’s keeping his face straight, the way he does when he thinks he’s being funny, his eyes bright with a mischievous glint.

“Arrogant bastard,” Soonyoung grumbles. It’s almost embarrassing that he does want to know Wonwoo, wants to know the side of him that teases and taunts and laughs easily, but also the side with cold, one-syllable replies and guns with smoke curling at the ends. Soonyoung loosens his grip on the steering wheel, and stretches his fingers.

“As I was saying,” Wonwoo continues, leaning back to put his boots on the dashboard. Soonyoung tries, and fails, to fight back the smile on his face. “So I left my family behind in my hometown.”

Alright, so maybe Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the worst person alive. Maybe he isn’t even that bad. Soonyoung has no idea why he keeps forcing Soonyoung to follow him on his jobs, but he’s quickly learning that being the righthand man of a gang leader doesn’t mean you get the fun jobs. Sometimes, Soonyoung gets to have a little fun, get his blood pumping. Plus Wonwoo doesn't really care if Soonyoung wants to duck into dimly lit pubs for drinks on the job. Half the time, though, Wonwoo does the most mundane of jobs, the kind of stuff Jihoon usually forces Soonyoung to do, who then forces some young, wide-eyed newbie to do. Wonwoo explains it’s because he doesn’t have anyone under him to hand the work to, so he just has to suck it up and do whatever Jeonghan orders, to which Soonyoung argues he could basically force anyone else to do it and they’d have to. 

_“I don’t get why you work alone, anyway. It’s stupid. It makes no logistical sense.” Soonyoung had commented, while walking beside Wonwoo on the way to some warehouse to check on something they’d stored there before._

_“Look at you throwing out all the big words,” Wonwoo had joked, then, after drawing out his intended response from Soonyoung (a whine and a pout), continued. “Besides, working with others is hard. You need to go through the motions of picking who goes well with you and then who goes well with the rest. And then you need to actually lead them, and deal with responsibilities. Too much for me. I’m no good with people.” He’d made a face at that, as if other people were repulsive and troublesome._

_“You work perfectly fine with me.” Soonyoung had let the words come out before he’d registered what he was saying. Soonyoung still remembers the amused look Wonwoo had given him and the way he'd clambered to add on. “And Jeonghan. And Seungcheol, probably, not that I’ve seen you guys work together. And you get along with Jihoon. There are loads of people you could get along with.”_

_“Right.”_

What Soonyoung means is, maybe they’d just gotten off on the wrong foot, because he’s learning that under Jeon Wonwoo’s steely image is a man who literally laughs like _ha, ha, ha_ and makes the most awful puns and does a lame, dorky dance that kind of resembles an octopus when he’s drunk at a club.

“What I’m hearing is you have a big, fat crush on Wonwoo.” Mingyu declares when they’re both clad in all black, as if it’s perfectly normal for them to be discussing Soonyoung’s love life when they’re breaking and entering.

“Mingyu, all I said was maybe I don’t hate Wonwoo. And would you shut up? You’re being way too noisy.” Soonyoung stage-whispers back, shoving some jewelry into his bag. Mingyu's too far to see him, but just in case, Soonyoung tugs his beanie down to hide his reddening ears.

“Relax, hyung. They’re all out, anyway.” It’s just as well, because right after saying that, Mingyu stubs his toe on the edge of an especially heavy-duty cabinet. “Mother _fucker!_ ”

Soonyoung picks up a gold locket, and examines the photograph inside. Cute, he thinks, tracing a thumb over the portrait of the handsome couple. For a moment, he thinks about what that would be like, sharing your heart and your life with someone else wholly. The moment passes. He pulls the photograph out and lets it float to the ground, forgotten, then dumps the empty locket into his bag. “I mean, he’s _okay_ , I suppose. After talking to him more.”

“Not the devil incarnate?” Mingyu offers helpfully, still hopping around and cradling his toe. “So…you do have a big, fat crush on him.”

It’s just a stupid snippet of a conversation, but it’s one that plays on Soonyoung’s mind in the days to come. It’s on his mind when Seokmin hands him the same drink he’d made for Wonwoo the first time they’d met at the bar, it’s on his mind when Jihoon snaps at him for getting distracted when they’re buying guns from Minghao, it’s on his mind when Hansol tells him about his nightmare on the sidewalk.

And it’s on his mind now as he tries to appear as confident as he can in Jeonghan’s private booth. Soonyoung’s been around long enough to know that sitting in this booth means you’re worth something, which is more than can be said about the many pawns in the gang. It sounds harsh, but it’s just the way things go, and it gives Soonyoung an almost perverse sense of importance when Jihoon asks him to follow him to the table. The only people who regularly use this booth are Jeonghan, Seungcheol and Wonwoo. There are frequent visitors, like Jihoon and Jun, but only when they’re invited. Soonyoung had almost been excited to be invited, until Jeonghan had waved Jihoon away and left him sitting there alone. Well, not quite alone, because Wonwoo’s here, but he barely knows Seungcheol and he’s never talked to Jeonghan in person. To be honest, he hadn’t even been sure Jeonghan had known of his existence before today. Even with Jeonghan’s placid smile and Seungcheol chattering about some television show, it feels like he’s being watched by a hungry predator.

“So, Hoshi,” Jeonghan begins, smoothly cutting Seungcheol off as he’s about to recount another episode of his trashy show. “From what I hear, you’ve been with us for a few months now. I’m sorry it took me so long to meet the _Tiger_.” Jeonghan pauses, leaning back on the couch and looking at him keenly with a glass in his delicate hold, “especially when you’ve been helping out so much.”

Jeonghan’s voice is light and easy on the ears, charismatic and commanding of attention. Soonyoung refuses to be intimidated. He smiles brightly, and takes a sip of his drink. “What’s a busy man going to do? You’ve only heard good things, I hope.”

“Oh, of course,” Jeonghan’s eyes hold a playful spark, one that reminds him of Jihoon when he’s preparing a witty comeback. No wonder they like each other. “Jihoon says you’re his best. And Wonwoo’s clearly taken to you. He’s like a cat, he’s always got to have his playthings.”

Soonyoung blinks, trying to process Jeonghan’s sharp tongue and formulate an appropriate response. Wonwoo bristles. They’re seated at a circular booth, and Wonwoo’s sitting a little too far away to be considered next to Soonyoung. Barely looking up from his phone, he says flatly. “Fuck off, Jeonghan.”

“Jihoon’s too kind.” Soonyoung settles on a nonchalant expression and a cheerful voice as his response. He’s not quite sure what Jeonghan’s playing at, but he’s not going to be the idiot who offends Jeonghan the first chance he gets and loses his head for it.

Jeonghan doesn’t seem to take offence to Wonwoo’s hostility, only shifts to regard him with interest. “Am I wrong? Are you not sleeping together?”

Soonyoung almost chokes on his drink mid-sip, which earns him a mischievous glance from Jeonghan. When he looks at him like that, he appears way younger than he is, and despite the unpleasant words, Soonyoung finds he kind of likes Jeonghan. He’s always been a sucker for playful people, after all.

“We’re partners.” There’s a slight edge to Wonwoo’s voice the second time round, and Soonyoung turns his attention to Wonwoo. He’s still looking at his phone, but his mouth’s set in a firm line, arm on the back of the couch tense. Soonyoung's fingers fiddle with a loose thread on his shirt. Are they? Soonyoung guesses if they had to _be_ something, that's what they would be.

“That’s strange. I’ve been telling you to get a partner for years, and you’ve always had the same answer.” Jeonghan smiles at him with his chin propped up on loosely interlaced fingers. Soonyoung has no idea how Jeonghan manages to sound both lighthearted and accusatory. Not for the first time, he remembers that Jeonghan's gotten to where he is for a reason.

“I guess you finally got what you wanted.” Wonwoo finally keeps his phone, meeting Jeonghan’s sharp look steadily, face stony. Beside him, Seungcheol mumbles something under his breath, and takes a shot. 

“Oh,” Jeonghan recovers, with a secretive smile. “I see how it is. Good luck, then.” He reaches over and pats Wonwoo on the head. Wonwoo grumbles and shoves him away. All this while, Soonyoung watches the exchange in confusion; he can’t tell if he’s reading too much into this, and they’re just teasing, or if he isn’t the only one feeling a thick cloud of tension in the air.

“Want some?” Seungcheol clears his throat suddenly, pouring out a line of cocaine on the table. He grins at Soonyoung, feigning casualness, but Soonyoung notices the way he eyes the other two out the corner of his eye.

“It’s alright,” Soonyoung replies doubtfully, and puts the glass down on the table. He shifts, crosses and uncrosses his legs, his legs now touching Wonwoo’s under the table. If Wonwoo bothers, he makes no show of it, so Soonyoung keeps his legs where they are.

“More for me, then,” comes Seungcheol’s chirpy response. Soonyoung gives him a half-hearted smile and thumbs up. When he looks up from the table, Jeonghan’s watching him again with a peaceful smile.

“You know, Jeonghan hyung really isn’t that bad. He can be kind of weird sometimes, but he always has his reason for it.” Wonwoo tells him feebly a few days later, when they finally acknowledge the whole evening of _strangeness_ that had happened in the club. To be fair, Jeonghan hadn’t said anything inflammatory after the initial remarks. After Seungcheol’d done a few lines of coke and gone batshit crazy, things had lightened up considerably. Soonyoung had gotten up to dance with the guy, because Seungcheol, all his muscle and manliness melting away, had suddenly become the world’s happiest, most excitable man. He’d even gotten Jeonghan to stand up and rap for them when his favourite song had started playing. But even through the excitement, Soonyoung still hadn’t managed to shake the feeling of being watched, by both Jeonghan _and_ Wonwoo. So yeah, he’s going with evening of strangeness.

“He did imply I was your whore or something.” Soonyoung half-jokes, and Wonwoo winces.

“Yeah, he’s…he grows on you.”

“Like you.” Soonyoung bites back, smiling at him. Wonwoo pauses, and looks up from where he’s crouched on the floor fixing up his motorcycle— because of course, Jeon Wonwoo rides a motorcycle. God, Soonyoung wrinkles his nose, it’s like God casted him as a gangster and he took the role way too seriously, with his dark hair and leather jackets and guns and flashy motorcycle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, you grow on people too. Can’t say you made the best first impression. But, you know, you’re not that bad yourself.” Soonyoung chirps, filing his nails. He’s not sure why he’s here in a garage watching Wonwoo repair his motorcycle. It’s not like Wonwoo had asked him to be here today or anything. But then again, it’s not like Soonyoung has anything better to do today, and it just feels natural to be killing time like this with Wonwoo; he’s been doing that way too much lately.

“Great, I’m jumping for joy,” grumbles Wonwoo sarcastically, turning back to his motorcycle. Soonyoung, still filing his nails, glances over at Wonwoo for a moment, who has a spot of grease on his chin and a whole lot of it on his hands. He briefly considers telling Wonwoo to actually make use of the towel he has flipped on his shoulder, but then waves the thought away. _Ugh_ , he’s developing nagging tendencies. He needs to distance himself from Kim Mingyu. “When _you_ first showed up, I didn’t have a great first impression of you either.”

Soonyoung scoffs. “Don’t lie, you’re so fucking self-absorbed, there’s _no_ way you pay any attention to newcomers.”

“Untrue.” Wonwoo argues. His mouth’s half open in concentration as he works on his bike. Soonyoung can see his tongue. It’s highly distracting.

“Okay, then tell me what you think of Chan.”

“Who the fuck is Chan?”

“Joined last week. Point proven.” Soonyoung grins, pulling his lollipop out his mouth and waving it at Wonwoo, who screws his face up.

“Okay, fine. I don’t notice all the newcomers. But I _did_ notice you, only because Jihoon kept blabbering to me and Seungcheol about how badass you were.” Soonyoung perks up at this, because it is rare that Jihoon ever compliments him. “I didn’t buy into it, though. Kind of thought you were ditzy.”

“Ditzy?!” Soonyoung screeches, eyes wide, and it makes Wonwoo laugh his stupid _ha, ha, ha_ laugh. “What on earth did I do to make you think I was ditzy?”

“The pretty ones always are,” answers Wonwoo, craning his neck to look at Soonyoung while still facing the bike.

“So you think I’m pretty?” Soonyoung latches on to the word, eyes glittering. He leans forward and rests his arms on the back of the chair he's straddling, lollipop in his left hand, nail file twirling between the fingers of his right. "That's interesting."

For a split second, Wonwoo looks like he's just been caught. He chews on the inside of his cheek and looks away, rubbing his neck. He's getting black grease _all_ over him; Soonyoung tries to concentrate on how unsanitary it is, and not on this one vein in his neck.

“Yeah, whatever, Hoshi.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes, voice flat but eyes refusing to meet his. Soonyoung wants more than anything to reach over and rub at the spot of grease on Wonwoo’s chin.

“Hey, Wonwoo, want to know something about me?” Soonyoung asks quietly, heart in his throat, and maybe it's the way he's suddenly dropped his voice, maybe it's the way he says Wonwoo's name, but it catches his attention instantly and Wonwoo's eyes are back on him. “My name’s Soonyoung. Kwon Soonyoung.”

Wonwoo stares back, mouth still half-open, tongue still visible. It darts out, wets the seam of his mouth, settling between his teeth. Soonyoung lets out a long exhale. It's just the absolute worst when a person is attractive, knows it, and uses it to their advantage. 

“I haven’t told anyone that in a really fucking long time.” Soonyoung laughs, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. His mind’s sort of going crazy right now. Rule number two, Soonyoung, he yells internally, _don’t let yourself be known too well_. To hell with it all, he yells back, there’s nothing wrong with letting someone in once in a while. And with that, he lowers his head, looks back down at Wonwoo, who’s turned away from the bike to face him fully.

“Alright.” Swiftly, Wonwoo swipes the lollipop from Soonyoung’s hand and pops it in his mouth. He smiles, then, not his sarcastic one when he mocks him, or his cold, borderline cruel one when he one-ups someone he hates, but a fond, almost imperceptible smile. “Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung can’t remember the last time someone’s called him that out loud. Wonwoo’s low voice always does something to Soonyoung.

It’s been a while since Soonyoung’s felt the thrill of a fight. His last few jobs haven’t really required him to use actual violence. Today’s different, though. Jihoon’s sent him and the new guy, Chan, after some idiot who’d thought it a good idea to cheat them of their money. Chan’s young, even younger than Hansol, but in him Soonyoung sees a hunger to please and an ambition he recognises in himself. So okay, maybe Soonyoung had shown off a little in front of the new kid. It’s worth it, though, to feel Chan’s admiring eye on his back. He clenches and unclenches his fist, relishes the familiar sting on his knuckles.

“You’re a madman, hyung,” Chan shakes his head, when Soonyoung screams at the sky.

“Maybe,” Soonyoung grins wolfishly. “But that’ll teach people not to mess with us next time. And _that’s_ how it’s done, Chan.” They leave the man moaning by the dumpster, clutching his sides. Soonyoung tilts his head to the side and looks back at him. All things considered, he hadn’t even been that brutal. Just a few punches, maybe a kick or two. He hadn’t even used any weapons, hadn’t thrown him about or anything like that. He’d even been kind enough to avoid messing his clothes up too much, Soonyoung knows expensive silk when he touches it.

“Come on, Chan. It’s time for celebrating a job well done.” Soonyoung throws his arm around Chan, chest full with the triumph that comes from fulfilling your duty and doing it well.

“Just in time,” Jihoon remarks, when Soonyoung sits down in his usual seat with a huge sigh. _My treat_ , he tells Chan, and motions at him to order whatever he wants. Chan, with his earnest innocence, nods enthusiastically. It’s endearing, Soonyoung thinks as Jihoon snorts, though one day Chan will realise no one _really_ pays for the drinks here when you’re one of Jeonghan’s men.

“What’s up?” Soonyoung asks, after he downs a shot with a victorious whoop. He decides that today’s a great day. Everything’s going perfectly, all that’s left is a night of drinking himself sick and dancing till he passes out. Soonyoung’s the kind who lives his life in extremes, and right now, he’s on the highest of highs.

“Just in time to go get your man.” Jihoon gives a pointed look in the direction of the booth Wonwoo’s always at, except today he’s with Jun, the two of them talking with their heads bent towards each other. So much for a great day. Soonyoung visibly deflates. They’re sitting pretty damn close to one another, though they’re just talking (at least that’s what it looks like from where he is). It’s not like Wonwoo owes _him_ anything, they’re barely friends. Acquaintances who take turns throwing punches at strangers and banter in between. Going over would not only be presumptuous and dramatic, it would also mean acknowledging Jihoon’s referring to Wonwoo as Soonyoung’s _man,_ something that makes his stomach churn and tighten and Soonyoung’s just _not_ ready to get into all that here and now. Going over would be stupid. Soonyoung draws in a deep breath and takes another shot. He goes over anyway.

Since the first time he’d sat there, Soonyoung’s been going over to the booth more and more often. Jihoon and Mingyu think he’s out of his mind, because other than the first time, Jeonghan’s never given explicit permission for him to do so. But Soonyoung just figures he might as well, if that’s basically the only place Wonwoo sits at, and besides, Jeonghan’s never said no, only regarded him in amusement. He squeezes past the throngs of people, then slides into the booth with a loud ‘hello’ that Jun nods politely to. Wonwoo raises his eyebrows, looking him up and down, and belatedly, Soonyoung realises he probably looks a mess right now, knuckles bloody and scratch marks where the man had tried to claw his way out of Soonyoung’s reach. Whatever, Soonyoung thinks, carding his fingers through his sweaty hair, he’s just going to go with it.

  
And maybe because Wonwoo doesn’t say anything in greeting, Jun doesn’t either, and they continue their conversation. As it turns out, they’re just talking about business, Jun’s giving Wonwoo an update on how things are going on his side. Jun keeps his voice low, so Wonwoo has to lean in to hear him over the pulsing music. From where he's sitting, Soonyoung can barely make anything out other than useless, stray words like 'shipment' and 'week'. He grimaces. As if his news is so secretive he can’t say it a bit louder, as if there really is a need to get his face all close to Wonwoo’s ear like that. Not that Soonyoung cares, and this he makes explicitly clear by leaning back in his seat and chatting loudly with Minghao when he slides into the booth. Minghao eyes him bizarrely. Fair enough, they’ve only met like, twice, which probably is not enough for this sense of false familiarity Soonyoung’s creating, but damn, the least he could do was play along and not make Soonyoung look like a complete fool.

“Sorry, Soon-Hoshi, do you mind keeping it down?” Wonwoo says politely, touching a hand to his knee, and Soonyoung’s stare hardens.

“It’s okay,” Jun waves him off with a laugh. “I don’t have much more to say, anyway.” Jun rummages in his pocket for a lighter, and lights a blunt. Jun moves with a grace Soonyoung wishes he had, with a self-assured, lazy confidence that reminds him of Jeonghan’s languid demeanour. Suddenly, Jihoon’s voice in his head, _the closest he came to it was that weird thing with Jun_ , and Soonyoung’s skin prickles. “You’re Hoshi, right?”

Soonyoung nods curtly. He’s being impolite, even though Jun’s being perfectly civil with him. Soonyoung’s not proud of it, but he’s always been too hot-headed for his own good. Wonwoo lights a joint of his own, sticking it between his lips.

“I’m friends with Jihoon,” Jun continues, watching him with half-lidded eyes. “He speaks highly of you. Wonwoo does, too. We should get together for a drink sometime, I think we’d get along.”

“Why would you think that?” Soonyoung asks, swirling his glass. He feels Wonwoo staring at him, and embarrassment builds inside him. He’s being childish, he’s aware, but the words come out before he can swallow them down. “We don’t know each other.”

Jun laughs good-naturedly, taking a hit. “True, but you seem like good fun.” He turns to Minghao, and they converse rapidly in Chinese. Soonyoung wonders if Minghao’s telling him about the weird Korean dude and Jun’s agreeing with him.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asks. Soonyoung isn't sure if he’s referring to his unnaturally bristly behaviour or the fact that there’s a stranger’s blood on his shirt. Wonwoo looks at Soonyoung’s hands, flexing and relaxing. Lightly, he takes Soonyoung’s hand in his and holds it up to his eye in concern. The brush of a thumb over the raw skin barely even stings. 

“Yeah,” Soonyoung responds breezily, softening slightly. “It’s no big deal.”

“So, Wonwoo,” says Jun as he turns his attention away from Minghao, switching seamlessly back to Korean. “Are you seeing anyone?”

And Soonyoung’s temporary mood lift instantly loses its effect. If he’s being rational, it’s a completely normal question to come up in a conversation between two friends catching up, but Soonyoung tends not to think straight when he’s tipsy and angry.

“No, what about you?” Wonwoo replies casually, and Soonyoung swears he’s avoiding Soonyoung’s eyes on purpose. Asshole. They’re _both_ assholes.

“Hey, Wonwoo, can I have some of that?” Soonyoung asks sweetly, pointing at the joint in Wonwoo’s hand.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, hold on, let me get some first,” Wonwoo inhales, then hands the joint over. That’s not how we do it, Soonyoung thinks, and pulls Wonwoo closer, brings his mouth to his. Soonyoung can feel Wonwoo’s lips curve slowly, from surprise to a smirk. Yeah, great, Soonyoung grumbles inwardly, the asshole’s probably having the time of his life seeing Soonyoung behave like a fool, but for now, his pride can wait. Soonyoung keeps his mouth on Wonwoo’s a bit longer than necessary, to the point where it’s more kissing than shotgunning ( _okay,_ shut up, Jihoon), and when he pulls back he’s kind of breathless.

Across the table, Jun starts laughing, a wild sort of infectious cackle, and Minghao giggles out a _what the fuck_. Wonwoo blinks, then pushes his hair back. “A little heads up, next time?”

Soonyoung leans back, and swirls his glass again, satisfied smile on his face. Still sitting at the bar, Jihoon catches his eye, and shakes his head in disgust. Seokmin, fooling around with a cocktail shaker, gives him a beaming thumbs up. Soonyoung flips Jihoon off when Wonwoo isn’t looking.

The rest of the night goes how Soonyoung had planned, this small hiccup aside. He knocks back shot after shot until his vision blurs at the corners and every song starts to sound the same. He dances, too, though Jun and Minghao aren’t as fun as Seungcheol is on the dance floor. But it’s fine, it’s alright, Soonyoung needs this, needs to let himself go a little too far after the shitshow that had happened just now. Soonyoung doesn’t even know where all that pent-up jealousy had come from, and just thinking about it makes him feel all icky, like some petty teenager. Which is just as well, because thinking makes his head hurt now.

He stumbles out of the bar into the night, lurching at the sudden movement. He leans against the wall, and fumbles around, trying to light a cigarette. It doesn’t work, his fingers are too clumsy, and the cigarette drops on the ground.

“What, you think cigarettes grow on trees?” Wonwoo jokes, pushing the door open. Soonyoung’s eyes widen, and he shoves the lighter back in his pocket.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny, Jeon Wonwoo.” He slurs. He’s not really in the state to deal with Wonwoo right now, to play the game they have going on between them, and he thinks if he tries he’ll just end up embarrassing himself more. At least Wonwoo’s not exactly sober either; he isn’t half-gone like Soonyoung, but there’s a sloppiness to his movements and his smile’s too wide and uninhibited. So, silver lining: there's a slim chance Wonwoo won't remember the details if Soonyoung slips up and humiliates himself. “Walk me home?”

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo hooks an arm through Soonyoung’s, and drags him onto the sidewalk. “I have no idea where you live.”

“Me neither,” Soonyoung mumbles. “Let’s just walk.”

They walk without speaking, arms still hooked together like a couple (it’s disgusting), shoes crunching against the leaves on the ground. Once they clear the red light district, at three (four? Soonyoung can't be sure anymore) in the morning, the streets of Seoul are empty except for the stray drunkard teetering on the sidewalks. It's a big, big city they live in, and sometimes Soonyoung makes the mistake of getting caught up in the chaos of it. It’s a comfortable quiet now, and the streets are only lit up by the feeble light of the street lamps. After the thumping music and raw-throat screams, Soonyoung’s head’s pounding too much for him to want anything more. Plus, he’s afraid if he starts talking he’ll say something incriminating.

“I’ve _got_ to ask, Soonyoung.” Wonwoo breaks the silence. Typical, Soonyoung whines in his head. He misses when Wonwoo had been quiet and mysterious and didn’t blabber incessantly to him. Soonyoung drags his heavy eyes from the ground to Wonwoo, who’s smiling. Oh no, Soonyoung thinks, because Wonwoo’s got his mischievous look in his eyes. “Were you _jealous_ just now? Of Wen Junhui?”

Soonyoung blinks, then shakes his head.

“Nope.” He makes sure to pop the ‘p’. Real mature, Soonyoung.

“Are you sure?” Wonwoo unhooks his arm from Soonyoung’s and crosses them in front of his chest.

“Yes. Absolutely. I was definitely not jealous, because why would I be?” Soonyoung’s mouth’s running again. But he can’t help it, there’s something humiliatingly close to panic building up in his chest, and Wonwoo’s staring at him, with his playful eyes and mouth that Soonyoung knows to be impossibly hot against his own. “Because it’s not like we’re anything, so there’s no reason to be jealous.”

“Because there’s nothing between us,” Wonwoo echoes lowly.

“Precisely,” Soonyoung exhales, and Wonwoo’s hands are on his face pulling him close. His fingers are startlingly cold on Soonyoung’s cheeks, and it sends a jolt down Soonyoung’s spine.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Wonwoo says, practically whispers it on Soonyoung’s lips, and closes the space between them. Soonyoung sighs into Wonwoo’s mouth, because _god,_ if he hasn’t been dying for Wonwoo to shut up and kiss him already for the past few weeks. Wonwoo, ever the considerate one, delivers. Wonwoo kisses like he’s trying to pull something out of Soonyoung, toying with Soonyoung with his lips, his tongue, his teeth. Fuck, Soonyoung thinks, he could let Wonwoo kiss him speechless any time, any day.

“Okay,” Soonyoung pulls back, smirking at how Wonwoo’s mouth chases his. His chest might implode here and now with all the pressure and tightness that it’s enduring. “Enough. We’re in public.”

“Didn’t stop you earlier,” Wonwoo shoots back, and Soonyoung pulls a face in his humiliation. Wonwoo lets out a groan, then rubs at his jaw, touches two fingers to his lips. “One of these days, you’re going to kill me, Soonyoung.”

In his inebriated state, it's impossible to bite back the triumphant grin that spreads across his face. Here he'd been, trying to smother his attraction like a shameful secret the past few weeks, and all this while Wonwoo's wanted him just as much as he had. It's insanely hot, to say the least. 

“Okay, so your place or my place?”

They end up at Wonwoo’s place, because in their aimless walking, Soonyoung had lost his sense of direction and hadn’t known the way back to his. When Wonwoo finally unlocks the door—Soonyoung’s patience is waning _thin_ , he dances in, looking around the apartment.

“So this is where Jeon Wonwoo stays, huh?” Soonyoung claps his hands gleefully, taking in his surroundings, from all the titles in his bookcases (Soonyoung doesn’t think he’s read that much in all his years of existence) to the dirty mugs on the table.

“Soonyoung.” Wonwoo says, and Soonyoung turns to face him. He pauses for a moment to take it all in, all of Wonwoo’s textbook handsomeness, the thin scar that’s almost completely faded, but is still there if you knew where to look for it, the leather jacket that Soonyoung knows hides at least two pistols. He takes it all in, then lets out a shaky breath. Who would’ve known, he jokes to past Soonyoung, that you’d be here now?

“Come here." It takes all of Soonyoung's self-control not to swoon at Wonwoo's low tone.

Their lips meet a little clumsily, a little desperately this time. And Soonyoung had been right after all, today really _is_ a great day, he grins, as Wonwoo shrugs off his heavy jacket and Soonyoung rests his hands on his arms, the muscle solid against his calloused palms. Wonwoo tastes like alcohol and brimming desire, and it’s all so intoxicating, Soonyoung could live off this sensation alone. He kisses Wonwoo like it's his last opportunity to kiss someone, like this is _the_ kiss before his death and he's prepared to go out with a bang. Plays all his big cards, too, licks into his mouth and lets his teeth scrape against Wonwoo's lips; he's rewarded with a needy hitch of Wonwoo's breath, and Soonyoung never wants to hear another sound if it isn't Wonwoo's voice, thick with want. Wonwoo’s hands skate across his face, to his neck, down his chest where they settle at his waist. Soonyoung’s inhales sharply. It’s a strange feeling, to have Wonwoo’s hands on him. He wonders what these hands have done, the men they’ve hit, the triggers they’ve pulled. Soonyoung thinks that if he’s not careful, he’d let them undo him completely in one go.

But as most things go with Soonyoung, he has to fuck it up. He gets one good thing, possibly the best thing he’s had in ages, handed to him on a gold platter, and he has to fuck it up by being drunk out of his mind. He pulls back, puts a hand on Wonwoo’s chest to hold him back. He closes his eyes, tells himself to get it together. If he throws up now, he doesn’t think he’ll ever live it down. Or forgive himself.

“Hold on,” Soonyoung says, earning an impatient sound from the other. “Is there something here, or is this just a we’re-both-drunk-and-crazy thing?” Of all voices, Jeonghan’s comes to mind, light and mocking and _“plaything”_ and suddenly, Soonyoung’s skin feels cold. “Because if this is just a tonight thing, then fuck it, let’s keep going before it never happens again. But if it’s a tomorrow and the day after that thing, then I think we should stop, I don’t really want to throw up on you.”

Wonwoo throws his head back, laughing, full-bellied. “I _really,_ really don’t want you to throw up on me.”

Soonyoung scrunches his face up, smiling. “Okay, and I _really,_ really want this to be a tomorrow and the day after that thing.”

Wonwoo leans backwards, and runs a hand through Soonyoung’s hair. “God, what a fucking tease.” Soonyoung smiles, loopy and dizzying, and Wonwoo purses his lips.

The next morning, Soonyoung wakes up, head stuffed full of cotton and mouth dry, to Jeon Wonwoo furtively trying to clean up the mess in his apartment. When he hears Soonyoung stir, he turns around sheepishly, trying to hide the trash bag behind his back (spoiler: it doesn’t work).

“Hey,” Soonyoung grins.

“Hey," Wonwoo smiles back, looking shy in a way that tightens Soonyoung's chest into a ball.

To be completely honest, Soonyoung is far from the best in his field of work. He doesn’t have a commanding presence, or calculating brain like Jeonghan does. He can’t strategise and plan as well as Jihoon can, and he doesn’t even come close to having the raw power Seungcheol has. Still, Soonyoung’s good enough to be fairly well known in the streets—come on, not everyone gets a cool nickname like the Tiger, and Soonyoung figures that must count for something. When others ask him for the secret to his (arguable) success (read: when Chan asks him), Soonyoung likes to tell them about his rules.

First, know the people you work with. No matter how simple the job, Soonyoung has learnt never to dive in without knowing those around him first. It’s bitten him in the ass before, and Soonyoung’s never letting that happen again. Soonyoung works with people, and that will never change, but these days, Soonyoung tries to keep his circle to those he’d trust with his life.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung breathes, heart hammering against his chest. He leans his head against the wall that Wonwoo's just yanked him behind, takes in two shuddering inhales, then doubles over with his hands on his knees. Sweat drips from the back of his neck, forces his shirt to cling to his back. Wonwoo, stares at him, face pale, smoke still curling from the gun.

“Are you okay?” He asks, tremor in his voice belying the calmness he’s trying to portray. Roughly, he forces Soonyoung to straighten up, and fumbles about Soonyoung's torso feeling for wetness. Wonwoo doesn't bother to keep his gun first, and the hot metal of a recently fired gun is pressed against Soonyoung's sweaty skin along with alarmingly quivering hands that only relax when they come back relatively clean of blood. “Fucking pay attention next time, amateur.”

“For someone who almost got killed, I’m fine.” Soonyoung says, swivelling backwards to look at the man Wonwoo’s just shot, then returning to Wonwoo's face. He flashes Wonwoo a reassuring grin. “I'm fine, really. Thank you.” 

Second, don’t know them too well, and don’t let yourself be known too well. This one, Soonyoung doesn’t share too often. It’s not a good look, being a hypocrite who spouts advice he himself doesn’t follow. Not that Soonyoung’s tripping over his feet to trust every single person he meets these days. If he had to tweak his rule, he’d change it to only let yourself be known by some. Soonyoung’s come to learn that there’s nothing wrong with breaking down the walls and letting others in once in a while. It's about time he put that paranoia aside, because he thinks he's found a family he truly wants to know, and who wants to know him, and just because they know his name isn't actually Hoshi, _shocker_ , doesn't mean they're going to slit his throat in his sleep. Although, one can't be one hundred percent sure when you know a Lee Jihoon, but Soonyoung will take his chances. You never know who’s going to be the one to save your life, after all, literally, and maybe figuratively, too. Besides, sleep comes a lot easier with the warmth of another person than when you're busy shutting everyone out. Soonyoung hasn't slept this well in years. 

“Stop right there!” A cop yells, running down the alleyway with his gun brandished. He looks earnest and fresh-faced, also known as the worst kind of cop to encounter. Soonyoung turns to look at Wonwoo, who curses under his breath and starts sprinting. Life is brutally unfair, Soonyoung complains inwardly as he follows closely behind. Not everyone’s legs can be as long as Wonwoo’s.

There’s a second voice shouting after the first, and when Soonyoung turns around mid-run, he sees it belongs to a familiar face. Resignedly, Jisoo’s jogging behind the first, though very obviously at a slower pace. “Seungkwan, leave them for now. We’ll never get anything on them.”

"Good to see you, Jisoo! How's the family?" Soonyoung calls over gleefully, drawing out a loud laugh from Wonwoo. 

"Yeah, I hate you, Hoshi," comes Jisoo's jaded response, but Soonyoung's certain he hears some fondness in it. Soonyoung hopes they’re on a rocky, but steady path towards striking up an unlikely friendship. 

"Jeonghan's men are the worst!" The earnest cop, Seungkwan, shouts frustratedly, and Soonyoung just cackles.

Soonyoung turns to look back at Wonwoo, who’s still running ahead of him. His lungs are burning, and he’s pretty sure he’s bleeding in several spots, but things could be worse. Wonwoo lets out an uncharacteristic cheer, and Soonyoung joins in, screaming up at the sky, blue and devoid of clouds.

Yeah, things could be a lot worse.


End file.
